


Passing in the Night

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Car Accidents, Character Death, Death, Drugs, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Original Character Death(s), Overdosing, Self-Harm, Self-Insert, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24902500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: Spencer learns about Reader’s feelings too late and loses his own battle as a result.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 98





	Passing in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> This work incorporates three separate requests I received, including one for a fic inspired by the song "Exit Music" by Radiohead. For best reading experience, I recommend listening to this song after Spencer finishes reading the letter.

She looked so beautiful that night.

Her laugh flowed through the cool night air like the melody of life itself. She existed so unapologetically and without any doubt. The carefree nature of her was hard to ignore; it rubbed off on you like the smell of perfume that always reminded me of jasmine and home.

She wasn’t mine, but I loved her.

I knew that night that I would always love her.

“What are you thinking about right now?” She asked it like she couldn’t see it on my face, although I guess that’s part of being a profiler. We can identify each hint of a nuance of the entire spectrum of human emotions, but we can’t see the way our coworker looks at us like we’re the entire universe condensed into one effortlessly beautiful being.

“Nothing.” I shrugged, laughing nervously when she started to giggle at the answer.

“You, thinking of nothing? I better call someone.” She pulled out her phone as she spoke, clicking her fingers dramatically against the screen.

“Very funny.” I mumbled, trying to hide my smile. She was so adorable that even when she teased me, the butterflies still roared in my stomach. “I can be ‘ _chill_.’” I hated the term, but also knew that it would make her laugh again, and I’d do anything to hear that laugh.

“You? Chill?”

“Don’t sound so surprised!” If that was supposed to convince her, it was the worst attempt known to man. My voice was so squeaky, I sounded more like a prepubescent boy than anything else.

Stifled between sputtering laughter, she mumbled, “I’m not. I believe you.”

“Then stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry! I can’t get over you saying the word ‘ _chill_.’” She swept her arm between us, accidentally smacking me, forgetting just how close the two of us were.

I didn’t mind. I never minded when she touched me; it reminded me of just how lucky I was to exist in the same universe as her. That we were both lucky enough to be alive at the same time and under circumstances that let her make mistakes that ended with her hitting me while laughing hysterically about my timid, frenetic personality.

“You are spending _way_ too much time with Morgan.”

Pouting more obviously now, I shrank into my seat, only a little embarrassed by her continued teasing. “I knew that word before him, okay? I went to college in California!” I reminded, glancing at her for just a second.

I should have been paying attention to the road, but I couldn’t help it. She looked so beautiful when she smiled like that.

“Okay, okay. Fair.” She began to settle down, turning her whole body towards me and leaning against the window. “So that’s what this is tonight? ‘ _Chill_ ’ Dr. Reid?” Her eyebrows rose, indicating her entertainment, , though I had to settle for seeing her from my peripherals. Luckily, I’d still be able to remember enough to recreate the sight a million times over. 

“No, it’s Spencer.” I smiled back, although I didn’t look at her yet.

She didn’t sound convinced, and I could hear her tapping her fingers against the seat. “Hmm. The Spencer I know, _my_ Spencer, is pretty excitable.”

The phrase “ _my Spencer_ ” caught me so off guard, my heart skipped at least one beat.

“And he’s even more adorable.” She continued, which did less for me, although it was still nice to hear.

The problem was that those were the words she always used for me – words best reserved for a brother, a friend, a… “Adorable is what you call a… puppy.”

“You do have puppy dog eyes.” She quickly shot back, pointing at me like I’d only bolstered her defense. “You could get away with murder, you know.”

I scoffed, shaking my head and finally allowing myself a brief glance at her, “So now I’m a puppy _and_ a murderer?”

She was half curled up in the seat, twisting the ties on her sweatshirt and smiling wide enough that I could almost count her teeth. “You’re just _that_ cute.” She said, which was funny, because I happened to be thinking the same about her.

“Oh, cute. Even _better_.”

“There are a lot of other words I could use.” She teased, biting down on her tongue as it slipped between her teeth. “Not gonna tell you what they are, though.”

This time, my shock and frustration were genuine. “That’s not fair!” I whined, torn between slowing down so I might have more chances to see her and speeding up so we could stop the car sooner. Of course, when we stopped the car, it would be time for her to leave.

And I really didn’t want her to leave. 

“Okay. Tell me a word you’d use to describe me, and I’ll give you one back.”

The look on her face told me that she thought I wouldn’t answer. Deciding that I wanted to call her on her bluff, I blurted out the first word that came to mind.

“… Warm.”

“Warm?” She repeated. When I didn’t clarify, she pressed further. “Why?”

“An explanation wasn’t part of the deal.” I smugly responded, sitting up straighter now that I had gained my upper hand. She scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest.

“So, what’s mine?” I reminded, knowing that she was just going to pretend like she’d forgotten if I didn’t remind her.

She took a long time to answer, shifting in her seat until her head was back against the headrest. But she turned it to look at me. I felt them scanning my figure, but I didn’t look at her. My eyes stayed glued to the road, counting the seconds she held me in her gaze so I could remember each of them.

“Home.”

She’d done it again – She stole the breath from my lungs and tore my heart from my chest. I choked on the air I did find, my eyes stinging while I stubbornly pressed back the emotions threatening to spill over onto my face.

In contrast, she sat perfectly calm, staring at me with a subtle curve of her lips. “What are you thinking about now?” She asked, lazily poking my shoulder to bring me back from my fantasies, all of which included pulling the car over and kissing her until neither of us could breathe anymore.

I couldn’t say that, but I had to say something.

“(Y/n), I need to tell you something, but I don’t really… know how to say it.”

Her playful giggle morphed into something deeper, “Take your time. I’m sure you’ll get it right.” I barely heard what she had to say, though, because as she spoke, she slid her hand onto my thigh.

“You always do.”

Biting back those pesky fears of inadequacy and humiliation, I managed to stutter out a few more words. “B-But you do want to hear it?”

“Yeah, I do.” That sleepy, happy grin on her face couldn’t last long enough. “I always want to hear what you have to say, Spencer.” She gave my leg a brief pat, which terrified me for a moment, thinking that she might remove it. But she didn’t; it stayed there, sinking into the fabric and my skin underneath.

She was sunlight and joy and everything good, and I was just a moon navigating a planet in hopes of getting close enough to her to have her light reach me every now and then.

“You might be the only one in the world.” I muttered, not meaning for her to hear it. But she did, turning to me with a devilish smirk.

“You better keep me around, then.”

I laughed, resting my hand against hers on my thigh and giving her a gentle squeeze. “Okay.” I said, too scared to look at her, scared that she might notice the way my cheeks had turned a dark shade of pink.

“Okay.” She repeated, spreading her fingers out so I could lock mine between them.

My heart went wild, beating so quickly and irregularly that I couldn’t even keep track of it. Because there she was, resting her eyes while sitting in the passenger seat of my car, her hand underneath mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I didn’t even stop her when she started to fall asleep, although I wondered how she managed to do that, considering the adrenaline coursing through every fiber of my being. But she seemed so peaceful, and her hand was so comfortably warm against me.

I held onto her for dear life for the 20 minutes we rode in silence. Part of me wanted to turn, to take the long way back to her place so she could get a few more minutes of the rest she definitely deserved. But I realized that it was mostly just a selfish desire to keep her close to me for a few minutes longer and decided against it.

It turned out to be worst decision I’d ever make.

The worst part about a head-on collision is the headlights blinding you. A close runner-up is the fact that you have very few options. The backroads of Fredericksburg, Virginia are narrow, with no shoulder before the drop off into steep forest landscapes. The road beside you isn’t much better, with no lighting and crosses already lining the street to remind you just how many people have failed to make the right decision in the exact same situation.

I remember thinking all of these things at once but not being able to understand why. I remember thinking about how tons of metal were never meant to make such terrible noises and wondering why we ever made such a thing in the first place.

But mostly, I remember the feeling of the hand in mine, and the way we never let go of each other.

“Hey sweet boy. Wake up.”

_Wake up? From what?_

“Come on, Spencer. I know you’re awake. Let me see those pretty eyes.”

There was a car alarm blaring in the distance, accompanied by the sound of shattered glass fragments scattering as our hands, still interlocked, lifted from my leg. The usual chirping of crickets and bellowing of frogs were absent, although I could tell from the smell that we were surrounded by the dogwoods and… iron.

“What happened?” I asked, realizing for the first time just how much it hurt to breathe.

“I need an ambulance. Two car crash in the woods off of Mine Road and Cameron.” She said to someone else, her voice breathless and shaking.

“Ambulance? (Y/n)?”

“It’s alright, Spencer.” She cooed, squeezing my hand that was covered in glass. “Yes, there are two of us. There was another car— I can’t see them. They haven’t gotten out of the car.”

As soon as I was able to, I turned my aching neck to lay my eyes on her. I needed to know that she was here, that this was real. But nothing could prepare me for what I saw. There was blood on her face, which was contorted in a strange mixture of pain and serenity. Her chest moved very little, her voice scratchy and hushed.

And just underneath her ribs there was a terrifying sight that was so jumbled and dark that I couldn’t even make it out. All I knew in my delirium was that I could feel it. I could feel the pain so clearly in my own stomach that I almost threw up.

“You’re bleeding.” I hoarsely stated.

“It’s alright.”

She was lying.

“No, no, it’s not alright.” I said faster, trying to sit up and feeling such an intense pain radiating through my back that I collapsed back against the seat. My eyes were glued to her abdomen, finally able to make out exactly what I was seeing. Lodged in the center of her body was a piece of metal, contorted enough to have torn a jagged opening in the worst possible location.

“Don’t look.” She begged, the phone falling out of her free hand, unable to bear any weight at all. “Look at my face.”

I tried. I tried to look at her like I didn’t know what this meant. But I couldn’t. “(Y/n) that’s… You…” The bile rose in my throat, statistics and research completely unhelpful.

“Shhh. It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt.”

She was lying. She was dying, and she was lying about how it didn’t hurt. She wanted to make sure I didn’t have to see her hurting. Even if it was the last thing she did.

“If it doesn’t hurt that… That’s worse. I have to…” I trailed off, trying to lift myself again before doubling over in pain. “I have to help you.”

“We both know you can’t help me.” She tried to laugh, but it was clear that her muscles didn’t have it in them anymore.

I had to try. I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit there and watch her bleed out in the seat next to me when I was _right there_.

“Spencer, don’t move. Look at your legs.”

Her hand twitched in mine, leading my attention down to the crushed metal that encased my lower half. I realized that the reason it hurt so badly to move was because I wouldn’t have been able to even if I did have the energy and focus that I was currently lacking.

“Talk to me about tonight.” She said suddenly, a smile cracking the dried blood on her cheek.

“What?” My voice was hoarse and sounded distant even to myself.

“Did you have fun?” She clarified, trying her best to rub the back of my hand with her thumb. She couldn’t move it much at all.

“(Y/n), please.”

“I had a lot of fun.” She said through tears, her pitch rising and falling with her volume. “I was so excited when you asked me to go with you. Please, tell me you had fun.”

My other hand came to my face, wiping the blood and tears that dripped from my lashes. “I always have fun with you.” I blubbered, trying to keep my eyes on the beautiful parts of her that were still intact.

“We should’ve done this more often.” She joked, glancing down at her stomach before correcting, “Well, maybe not this bit.”

“We still can.” I begged her and any Gods that might exist and take pity on me. But she wasn’t a god. She wasn’t the sun. She was just a person, sitting with her hand in mine and her eyes quickly fading.

“My sweet boy.” She purred, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Don’t leave me, please. Don’t leave me. Please.” I could barely make the words comprehensible, but she knew what they meant. She always knew what I meant. She always heard me. She always _wanted_ to hear me.

“I won’t.”

The words should have been comforting, but they couldn’t be when her eyes still weren’t opening again. “No, don’t do that. You know that’s not what I mean. I don’t want you to be with me like that. Don’t—”

I saw the lights flashing over the embankment, and my mind started racing again. They were almost there. They could help her. They could save her. They could do something that I couldn’t do and stop this from happening.

“They’re going to come help you.” I wished, trying to speak the words into existence.

But she wasn’t listening to the wishes of a sad man, relying on the reason I should have accepted by that point myself. “No, they can’t. They’re going to help you.” She corrected, managing to lift her lids to look at me again.

“Not until they help you first.” I ordered through a clenched jaw that took all of my effort that wasn’t already spent holding onto her hand.

“You know how triage works, Spencer.” She slurred. “Let’s not fight.”

That was it. She was telling me that she wasn’t going to make it the extra thirty seconds for them to get here. They would see her and know. They would know, as she knew and as I was refusing to accept. We all knew she wasn’t going to make it. She was never going to make it.

“What was your favorite thing about tonight?” I crackled, letting the tears fall without any barrier. Both of my hands were on hers now, trying to keep it warm like it would make a difference.

“Listening to you talk. It’s always my favorite.”

“Let’s keep talking.” I insisted, brushing the glass from her skin. The paramedics were shouting, and the flashlight fell on her face just enough for me to see her eyes with perfect clarity one more time, alive and looking at me.

“Thank you, Spencer.” She whispered, her eyes flittering up to the paramedic quickly approaching my side of the car.

“For what?”

She took a sharp breath in, the air rattling in her mouth. Then, before her hand went limp in mine, she gave me the last smile she could, humming softly and closing her eyes.

“For being my home.”

Although I only held her hand, I swear I felt the life leave her. I couldn’t see her face in the darkness, but I know her eyes never closed the whole way. My ears were too far to hear the soft thumping of her heart, but I still heard when it ceased.

“No, (y/n), wake up.” I pleaded, not even hearing the paramedics that were now cutting the belt from my chest. “Wake up!” I shouted louder, ignoring the hands that were trying to monitor my condition in the mangled metal. “ ** _Please_**!”

But once a woman appeared on her side of the car, she barely touched (y/n) before she stepped back. With sympathy in her eyes and her hands shaking, she dialed a number on her phone.

“Hello, Dr. Foster? This is Paramedic Reynolds with the Fredericksburg Rescue Squad… I’m calling for a pronouncement of death.”

No matter how tightly I held onto her, her hand never stopped feeling cold.

—

“ _It wasn’t your fault_.”

I was tired of those words. Everyone had said them about everything. It wasn’t my fault that she died. It wasn’t my fault that the drunken idiot fell asleep at the wheel. It wasn’t my fault we took that route. It wasn’t my fault she ever got in my car. It wasn’t my fault that I fell in love with her.

It wasn’t my fault, they said. Like it mattered, like assigning the blame would sate the black hole in my chest. Like if it were my fault, things would be any different.

She was still dead, and I was still standing in her apartment trying to remember why I was here and how to make my legs move. The fact that I couldn’t just brought me back to that night, feeling the burning and the nothingness as they caught between metal.

“Spence, are you alright?”

I didn’t dignify the question with an answer. JJ didn’t seem to mind, having winced at her own words as soon as she realized how utterly ridiculous they were.

“Sorry.” She responded to herself, nervously rubbing her arm in a half hug.

I tried to read the shifting, to make sense of why things had suddenly changed. In the end, I was just staring at her with the same blank, chilling gaze until I noticed a small envelope in her hand that displayed a name written in her handwriting.

My throat didn’t work, filled with tears and screams that were better left bottled up. The only sign that I was capable of recognizing my surroundings at all was the rapidly increasing rate of my breath.

“I found it in her nightstand.” JJ explained softly, taking a cautious step forward, but keeping the letter close to her body. “She told me she wrote it, but I don’t know what it says.”

It felt like the only parts of me I could move were my eyes, which flickered everywhere, squeezing shut every time a picture of her appeared in my head.

She was everywhere. The scent of jasmine had bled into the fabric of every piece of furniture, and her laugh was caught in the walls. Each time I closed my eyes, more tears would fall from my lashes until there was nothing left again.

JJ had already learned not to touch me yet. But there was little else for a mother to do when she saw someone crying. Sliding the envelope onto the table next to me, she immediately took a few steps back.

“Do you want me to stay?” She asked, her eyes burning into my face that couldn’t meet her.

I shook my head, and she disappeared without another word. She didn’t need to say anything else. I knew she would wait outside the door for me all night if she had to. I should have felt bad for putting her through this, but I couldn’t feel anything at all.

Once the door clicked shut, my fingers decided to cooperate with my brain again. At first they touched the envelope with an astounding level of precision and care, but soon devolved into a desperate fumbling.

I closed my eyes, drawing in a breath of the air she once breathed. As it left, I opened my eyes.

“ _Spencer,_ ”

It was already too much. I could hear her voice so clearly in my head, it almost sounded like she was there beside me, speaking the words into my ear. But I had to forge ahead , afraid that if I didn’t, I’d never be close to her again.

_“If you’re reading this letter, it could only mean a number of things. I’ve either lost my marbles, or you’ve been snooping in my stuff. If it’s the latter, shame on you! But I’m glad you’re here. We both know I’m a bit of a coward when it comes to emotional stuff._

_Speaking of emotional stuff, I guess I should actually say something in this letter._ ”

She would have hated that I didn’t laugh at her joke. I always laughed at her jokes, even when I didn’t get them. Even when they weren’t jokes at all. She told me it made me her favorite audience.

_“Do you remember JJ’s wedding? It was one of the rare nights where you actually drank, so I’m never really sure how much you remembered. I was always too scared to remind you because I thought you might remember too much._

_We danced. I’d originally dragged you out for something stupid, but JJ, in her infinite wisdom and undying desire to see me make a fool out of myself, switched the song at the last second._

_When the slow song started, I told you that you could sit back down. But you didn’t. You held out your hand with this look in your eyes, like you’d been in on the joke. I don’t want you to remember this because I’m afraid in your faultless memory, you’ll be able to see the stars in my own eyes. I’m scared that you’ll be able to see everything I wanted to do._ ”

Every word unlocked a memory, filling my mind and the imaginary space around me with sights, sounds, and smells.

I could feel her, her hand so small compared to mine, shaking just a little with what I’d assumed were nerves from dancing with me in front of everyone. I had figured it would embarrass her to be seen like that with me, but I was too drunk and too selfish; I needed to hold her, if only for a moment.

_“I wanted to kiss you. I should have kissed you. But I was scared. Even now, writing this letter you’ll never see, my heart is pounding so hard I’m terrified you might hear it. You’re sitting just across from me now. You can’t see me writing or follow my strokes because you’re fast asleep. When you wake up, I’ll have to stop writing again. So I better make this quick.”_

“Please, don’t.” I begged her out loud like the words on the paper could change. I didn’t want it to be quick. I wanted her to take all the time in the world, because once it was over, it was over.

I could never come back for a new experience. I would have already read the words for the first time and the only time.

And as I looked down, I saw that I’d already marred the words with tears that warped the page.

_“I love you.”_

My hands crinkled the paper, my breath more like heavy sobs as I saw the smears and micro-abrasions on the stationery I had bought for her as a gift. 

_“Ignore the lingering pencil marks from how many times I erased and rewrote the words. Know that it’s not because I was unsure— it’s because they needed to be perfect. I hope that I’ve told you before now, because I’m not sure the words on the page will ever be good enough._ ”

No, they wouldn’t. But they were all I had.

“ _I love you, Spencer Reid. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I just needed you to know. I have loved you since the first day I met you. From the first moment I saw you, I knew that you were the only person I’d want to spend the rest of my life with._

_You don’t have to love me back. No matter what, I promise you’ll always be my best friend first, and my sweet boy always._

_With love,_

_(Y/n)_.”

“I—“ My voice caught in my throat, not letting the words come out.

She wouldn’t hear them, anyway.

—

It was cold. My apartment was so terribly, numbingly frigid. At least, it felt that way to me. The cool, hard tile of the bathroom floor still felt comforting in a way.

My head slid down the wall, spotting the patterns and swirls of the designs. _Why do we make bathrooms so dizzying?_ I thought, but then realized my nausea was more likely from the needle still caught in my arm.

I didn’t even remember putting it in, but it was obvious I’d lost the ability to remove it. My limbs felt so heavy and it felt so natural, I just left it there. What difference would it make, anyway?

Managing to lift my head back against the wall, I was blinded by the dim light that felt more like the sun. It should be warm. It should be warm like her smile or her hand on my thigh. But it wasn’t; it was just a stupid fucking light.

She wasn’t here. She wasn’t warm anymore. I knew that because I’d touched her face before they tore me away from her. She was cold like my apartment and the nothingness I felt.

The door opened, the unwelcome screeching like nails on a chalkboard. I closed my eyes, hoping the pounding in my head would dissipate with the sound.

But it was followed by another door crashing open, and I realized that the screeching wasn’t the metal hinges at all; it was my name.

“Spence!” JJ’s hands didn’t feel warm, either. When she tore the spent syringe from my arm, it felt like nothing at all.

Taking my face in her hand, she lightly hit against my cheeks, like she could tell that I was wondering what it would take for me to feel something again.

“Spencer!”

My eyes tried to follow her, but were too tired. I couldn’t even move when she shoved the familiar plunger into my nostril, roughly forcing a fine mist that for some reason felt like needles.

“Why isn’t it working?!” Her fingers shook against my pulse, but it was her voice that made me shiver. “Spence, wake up! Where is yours?”

Where my breathing had been slow before, I now heard it in short, shallow bursts. It felt like I was choking.

She lowered me into my side, my face now pressed against the tile to learn that it wasn’t so cold, after all.

“I need an ambulance at the Langham, Apartment 23. There’s been an overdose and Narcan isn’t working.”

She sounded so scared.

“ ** _Please hurry_**!”

Her breath on my face alerted me of the situation before her lips covered mine. She tried to force the air in, but my body rejected it, shaking from the intrusion before collapsing in on itself.

“Spencer, it’s gonna be okay. Just listen to me, okay? Stay awake.” She instructed when the CPR clearly failed. Her hands were slipping too much in the sweat coating my skin to locate the weak, threads pulse that remained.

I don’t know what happened, but I heard myself. I heard myself before I saw her.

“(Y/n)…”

She was there, in front of me.

“No, stay with me.”

What was I supposed to do? Ignore her?

“Spencer?” Her voice was quiet but inviting as she turned to see me, her smile lighting up the darkness. And although it was much brighter than the yellow flickering light in my bathroom, it didn’t hurt my eyes anymore.

“Spencer!” JJ’s voice, on the other hand, was panicked. It hurt. I didn’t want to hear it anymore. So I shut it out, focusing on the sound of my feet hitting whatever I stood on as I walked towards the serene vision before me.

But I couldn’t get too close, terrified that it would disappear if I did. I didn’t want to realize that it wasn’t real.

“(Y/n)… you’re here.”

Her brows tilted up in the center, wrinkles forming there to replace the ones that formed on her cheeks when she smiled. “Oh, my sweet boy… What did you do?” She whispered, moving towards me for the first time.

I couldn’t breathe, staring at her face and seeing that it looked the same as that night. The last night I saw her with color.

“It hurt so bad.” I croaked, “I just wanted it to stop.”

“Oh, Spencer.”

There was no concern on her part when her hands made contact with me. She threw her arms around my neck, pulling herself onto me and burying her face against my chest.

“I never got to tell you.” I said, knowing that I was crying but not feeling the tears anymore. My hands hovered over her, still petrified of making a mistake. “I never got to hold you.” I pointed out in an attempt to explain why I hadn’t touched her back.

Because my brain didn’t know what it would be like. If I held her now and felt nothing, I knew that it couldn’t be real. It was just a figment of my imagination before I woke up in a hospital or returned to the nothing I had come from.

But I couldn’t resist it for long, the familiar, comforting aroma of jasmine and the breeze of her breath against my chest told me that it was real enough.

My hands clung to her like I could become a part of her if I only did it right. With deep, gasping breaths I felt her hair against my lips and her fingers danced on the back of my neck.

“I loved you. I still do.” I gushed, barely capable of staying upright. It felt so real, so impossibly, wonderfully inviting and true, I feared I would never be able to let her go. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

She shushed me, tangling her fingers in my hair like she had also been waiting a lifetime to do so. “It won’t hurt anymore.” She promised.

I don’t know why, but I laughed. I laughed through the tears, lifting her effortlessly into my arms so she could be impossibly closer.

“I missed you so much.” I cried, pulling back to look at her. She looked so beautiful in that moment. She looked as beautiful as she always did, and the same as she had looked the night she told me that I felt like home.

“I missed you, too, Spencer.”

She sounded like there should be tears on her face, but they never showed. Instead, her lip trembled with an invitation.

Slowly gravitating together, her lips felt like silk against mine, which were chapped and tired. But she didn’t care, holding me tighter and sharing the light that I thought I’d lost forever.

When it was finally over, I felt lighter again. The warmth reappeared and flared through every part of me, and I realized she was right.

It didn’t hurt anymore.


End file.
